


Someone Intended for Honor and Admiration: The Commander’s Constellation Collection

by PsithurismSymphonies



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Gen, Mixed Signals, Unrequited Love, accidental lead on, i'm unsure how these tags work, in love with another
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-07
Updated: 2016-06-07
Packaged: 2018-07-12 18:47:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7118140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PsithurismSymphonies/pseuds/PsithurismSymphonies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He called me his Siha.<br/>What would you find under Shepard's constellation collection file for Thane Krios.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Someone Intended for Honor and Admiration: The Commander’s Constellation Collection

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this like... as soon as Thane passed... I was numb and had stupid, fat tears that wouldn't stop rolling down my face. I accidentally locked in a romance with him, I loved him, but I was after Garrus. 5+ years old, please try to enjoy this piece of writing I did during my first play-through of the Mass Effect series.

It’s kind of amazing, seeing your own lifetime put into the galaxies, your name literally up in lights and formed into a constellation so everyone can know your greatness, your failures. Everything you are. So, I got to thinking, if I were to write a story for all those I care for, all my soldiers that laid down their utmost – bodies, mindset, emotions, beliefs – what would I say? As a commander, I am not my own. No, the title belongs to all my people, and all the people that have gotten me to where I am, all those I protect, and even all the ones who have tried to keep me from saving everything that matters. So, this is my start. This is just a small excerpt for myself, something that I can say personally, to add to anyone else’s story of him. This is my piece for Thane Krios.

 

Thane and I grew close; he was one of my top men. It wasn’t just his skill with a stealth weapon, or his patience and somewhat ethereal demeanor. I don’t know exactly what it was. Maybe a combination of everything he was, but definitely not a singular thing. An assassin is what many would name him by; even his body itself claimed it. But there was more than an assassin, there was a soul that was getting tired in ways, and a mind that was literally unable to let go of the past. To say he was haunted is an understatement, but so is to say he was yet still capable and focused. He loved his wife and son, and waded through memories of them that were damaging and beautiful. It must be something, having eidetic memory. A blessing in some cases, but after so many years, something that wears you down to your core. 

Even illness could not keep him from his best for the longest time. His Kepral’s Syndrome would tire him out, was even killing him, but he was always in top shape when it counted. Thane may have been weighed down when he rested, but was light and as invisible as air when a kill was to be made.

I liked to go in to talk, and he was nearly always happy to. He was as congenial as they come, considering. He told me his story, he knew I cared. I did, I do, and I will always. I want all my crew to know, that I am always there. They are my family, whether they know it or not. At one point, as I looked at his eyes, dark, but forever glistening with something I couldn’t quite touch on (something I probably wasn’t supposed to touch on anyway), and I thought about how kind he’s been to me. How much he meant to the team. 

And I - I let myself acknowledge my affections to him. I was regretfully confused, and I didn’t know what I was saying, I suppose. And I locked myself in briefly, into his affections and intimacy. In a way I was not ready, conflicted between him and another as I was. I thought about it, as I was listening to him appreciate my advances. I thought about how he’s a man dying right in front of me. A man who I could give very precious meaning to his end, along with his son. A man who I could hurt somehow very badly before his end if anything would happen. A man whom could hurt me, I wondered selfishly, by being so close to death.

That’s when he called me. He called me with a name I didn’t learn until it was too late. 

“Time for me is short, siha, but any I have is yours to take.”

And I took it. Selfishly, I took it and I can’t give it back now. I let him go shortly after he gave me that title so important to him. And like the loyal, benevolent person he was, he put me someplace in his heart, he’d said. Someplace that would be unfruitful in some designs, we both knew in a sad understanding, but there nonetheless.

I can’t deny it, I’m still broken. He prayed for me, at the end. Not for his victims, not for his son, or himself, not for his long lost wife, not for the future of the world. I think that piece of me he kept in his drell heart died with him. There’d be no better way for me to go.

**Author's Note:**

> Ah. Well. I'd love commentary. Try not to be too harsh with me, please. I was a Freshman in college when this was written, and it hasn't been edited or looked at by anyone since then. I'm uploading this mostly to maybe encourage myself to write again for a fandom someday. Also, I thought it was unfair to have an account on here and not post something, even if what I post isn't too quality or new. Thank you for taking the time to read this! =u=


End file.
